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With Water who the Wilderness fupplies?
And tell me whence the Midnight Dews arife?
Or from what cold and petrifying Womb,
The Ice and nipping hoary Froft does come?
What fecret Pow'rs its fluid Parts cement,
Congeal and harden the foft Element?
All stiff and motionless the frozen Deep,
No curling Winds its fhining Surface sweep.
Canft thou the cheering Influences Stay
Of those mild Stars which deck the Spring fo gay?
Or loose the fullen Planet's icy Bands,
Which Frofts, and rough tempeftuous Winds,

Do all the shining, vaft Machines above,
By thy Contrivance in fuch Order move?
If fo- -ftill thy Divinity to prove,
Set open now the Flood-gates of the Sky,
And call a mighty Deluge from on high;
Kindle prodigious Lightnings, and command
The burning Flashes with a daring Hand,
I'll then confefs thou haft an Arm like me,
And that thine own Right-Hand can fuccour thee:

Thefe Lines were wrote by JONATHAN SWIFT, D. D. and Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, in the Year 1731.


HE Time is not remote when I

Muft by the Course of Nature die;
When I foresee my fpecial Friends
Will try to find their private Ends;
Altho' 'tis hardly understood,

Which way my Death can do them good.
Yet thus methinks, I hear 'em fpeak,
See how the Dean begins to break :
Poor Gentleman! he droops apace;
You find it plainly in his Face:
That old Vertigo in his Head
Will never leave him till he's dead:


Befides his Memory decays,
He recollects not what he fays;
He cannot call his Friends to mind;
Forgets the Place where laft he din'd;
Plies you with Stories o'er and o'er:
He told them fifty Times before.
How does he fancy we can fit
To hear his out-of-fashion'd Wit?
But he takes up with younger Folks,
Who, for his Wine, will bear hi Jokes:
Faith, he must make his Stories fhorter,
Or change his Comrades once a Quarter.
He hardly drinks a Pint of Wine,
And that I doubt is no good fign.
His Stomach too begins to fail :
Laft year we thought him ftrong and hail;
But, now, he's quite another Thing:
I wish he may hold out till Spring.
When daily How-do-yo's come of course,
And Servants answer, Worfe and worse,
Would please them better than to tell,
That, God be prais'd, the Dean is well.
Behold the fatal Day arrive:

How is the Dean? He's juft alive.
Now the departing Pray'r is read,
He hardly breathes. The Dean is Dead.
Before the Paffing Bell begun,

The News thro' half the Town has run :
From Dublin, foon to London, spread:
'Tis told at Court, The Dean is dead.
Kind Lady Suffolk, in the Spleen,
Runs laughing up to tell the Queen;
The Queen fo gracious, mild and good,
Cries, Is he gone? It's Time he fhoud.
Now Grub-freet Wits are all employ'd;
The Town with Elegies are cloy'd:
Some Paragraph in ev'ry Paper,
To blefs the Dean, or curfe the Draper.


My Female Friends, whofe tender Hearts
Have better learn'd to act their Parts,
Receive the News in doleful Dumps,
The Dean is dead, and What is Trumps?
The Lord have Mercy on his Soul!
Ladies, I'll venture for the Vole.
Six Deans, they fay, must bear the Pall,
I wish I knew what King to call.
Madam, your Hufband will attend
The Fun'ral of fo good a Friend?
No, Madam, 'tis a fhocking Sight,
And, he's engag'd To morrow Night.
My Lady Club would take it ill
If he should fail ber at Quadrille.
He lov'd the Dean.-1 lead a Heart.
But, dearest Friends, you know, muft part.
His Time was come; he ran his Race:
We hope he's in a better Place,

Why fhou'd we grieve that Friends fhou'd die ;
No Lofs more eafy to Supply.

One Year is paft, a diff'rent Scene,
No further mention of the Dean,
Who now, alas! no more is mift,
Than if he never did exist.
Where's now this Fav'rite of Apollo?
Departed, and his Works must follow;
Muft undergo the common Fate:
His kind of Wit is out of Date.
He never thought an Honour done him,
Because a Duke was proud to own him:
He'd rather flip afide, and chuse
To talk with Wits in dirty Shoes :
Defpis'd the Fools with Stars and Garters,
So often feen careffing Chartres.
He never courted Men in Station,
Nor Perfons had in Admiration.
Of no Man's Perfon was afraid,
Because he fought for no Man's Aid;



But fuccour'd Virtue in diftrefs,
And seldom fail'd of good Success.
With Princes kept a due Decorum;
But never flood in awe before 'em :
He follow'd David's Leffon juft,
"In Princes never put thy Truft."
Two Kingdoms, juft as Faction led,
Had fet a Price upon his Head
But not a Traitor could be found
To fell him for fix hundred Pound,
Had he but fpar'd his Tongue and Pen,
He might have rofe like other Men:
But Pow'r was never in his Thought,
And Wealth he valu'd not a Groat.
He told an hundred pleasant Stories,
With all the Turns of Whigs and Tories:
Was chearful to his dying Day,

And Friends would let him have his Way.
He left the little Wealth he had

To build a Houfe for Fools and mad;
And fhew'd, by one fatyrick Touch,
No Nation wanted it fo much.

That Kingdom he hath left a Debtor :
1 wish they foon may get a better.

The Character of a True GENTLEMAN.


HE true Gentleman is one that is God's Servant, the World's Mafter, and his own Man: Juftice is his Búfinefs, Study his Recreation, Content and Happinefs his Reward; God is his Father, the Church his Mother, the Saints his Brethren, and Heaven his Inheritance; Religion his Miftrefs, Juftice and Loyalty her Ladies of Honour, Devotion his Chaplain, Prudence his Chamberlain, Sobriety his Butler, Temperance his Cook, Hofpitality his Houfe-keeper, Providence


his Steward, Charity his Treasurer; Piety is Miftrefs of the House, and Difcretion the Porter. Thus is his whole Family made up of Virtues, and he the true Mafter of the Family: He is neceffitated to take the World in his Way to Heaven ; but he walks through it as fast as he can, and all his Business by the Way is to make himself and others happy. Take him all in two Words, he is a Man, and a Christian.

Think thine own Condition to be certainly the beft, because God, in his Wifdom, fees it best for. thee: If thou haft not as much as others, yet thou haft that which is appointed for thee. In Heaven our Reward fhall be, not according to the good Things we have received here; but according to the good Works, which we have done here: At the reckoning Day, he will be accounted the wifeft Man, that has laid out his Time in good Duties, and his Treasure in good Works.

Q. What is related in History of the fix Ages of the World?

A. The firft Age, from the Creation to the Flood, endured, according to Eufebius and the Seventy-two Interpreters, 2242 Years. St. Auftin differs from them; his Opinion was, that it endured 2272 Years. The fecond Age, from Noah's Flood to the Birth of Abraham, endured, according to the Seventy-two Interpreters, Eufebius, and the greateft Part of Writers, 942 Years. During this Age was built the Tower of Babel, the Empire of the Affyrians began, and the great City of Nineveh was built, which contained in Circuit three Days Journey. The third Age, from Abraham to David, endured 942 Years. During this Age, was the Peregrination of Abrabam, the Beginning of the Amazons, Sodom and Gomorrab destroy'd, Jofeph fold to the Egyptians. D


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